


Railway Tracks

by BananaNeko



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Companions, Drabble, Evening, F/M, Open to Interpretation, Train Station, Written by Fangirl, ambiguous - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaNeko/pseuds/BananaNeko
Summary: ‘The usual things are sometimes the best, you know,’ he said. ‘Once you look back.’





	

**Author's Note:**

> First sane thing I’ve written here, I believe.
> 
> I had nothing better to do.

A copper dragonfly skimmed over the tops of the grass blades, hopping from sleeper to sleeper along the sun-baked railway track, in wavering halts and darts. The sinking sun was glowering at the world from between the ground and the bowing leaves. The windblown, sweltering life in the little field was finely outlined in bronze; and parts of the old wire fence were torn, like netting.

‘Hey.’

She lifted her eyes from the fence to a weight on her shoulder. Just a light, friendly touch.

‘How was your day?’

She smiled softly. ‘It was… okay.’

He frowned. ‘Define “okay”.’

‘Oh, you know. Dull. Tedious – just… the usual things.’

He sat down beside her on the worn, peeling bench, and she sidled sideways to make space for him.

‘The usual things are sometimes the best, you know,’ he said. ‘Once you look back.’

She nodded. ‘Maybe…’

He glanced at the hand she’d laid absently on the grainy bench. His hand spooned up against hers, slipping in between her fingers; making her smile. She rested her cheek on his shoulder – and they just sat there, quiet companions, watching the sky fold its cloudy wings.

The railway tracks shuddered, ringing with the faint, distant screech of rasping steel. A square silhouette swelled out of the horizon, chugging its way towards the remote station.

‘See you tomorrow.’

He squeezed her hand and nodded. ‘Tomorrow.’

She picked up her bag, not looking back.

The automated doors closed behind her, and the hiss of the wheels sliding against the rails reverberated, as the steel train lurched forward. Slowly picking up speed – just one stop, just one trip at just another end of a regular work day.

She stared out through the window at the old, peeling bench, already swallowed by the night.

No one sat there.


End file.
